Natural
by HanaKoryuo
Summary: A drabble/one shot set in an Alternative Universe or in the Canon Verse for each word of the alphabet. Mostly L/Light, but other ships may appear in the stories.
1. Act

**I. Act**

_It's all an act._  
Eyes closed shut to let darkness silence his inner demons, Light inhales and exhales over and over. He only thinks about spreading his fingers and popping the wrist, as if catching an invisible object mid-air. He wonders if his grip will be firm but not harsh as wished. Natural as though meant, needed and delicate at the same time.  
As a talented actor, he knows fretting will ruin a performance. So why does his heart skip a beat when it's time to shoot the scene?  
_It's all an act._  
L Lawliet isn't pretty, he has unhealthy habits and he's good only at playing gloomy characters or weird detectives. But his deep voice enchants the audience as so his fluid movements; the way he captures Light's arm and drags him closer gives him goosebumps. Light doesn't realize his shoulders stiffened until he relaxes in L's embrace and their lips collide behind the curtains of black hair. Logic melts in instinct as the kiss deepen, unrequired, but the dance of tongues always please the audience -such a cliché.  
_It's all an act._


	2. Blood

**II. Blood**

_Blood._  
The vital fluid in each creature that delivers necessary substances such as nutrients and oxygen and transports metabolic waste products away those same cells.  
It was quite ironic that even dead creatures like vampires, who were nothing but a mere empty immortal shell, craved for that ruby liquid like flies to honey. Just a drop lifted sagging skin, prevented creasing and adorned cheeks with a soft pinkish shade, wiping off the spectral paleness of death; a miracle that not only let vampires to gain strength, but also let them survive immortality. The quite nostalgic types would tell it was like living among humans once again, even though it meant killing innocents to preserve their cursed species. Newborn vampires had in fact the bad habit to drain blood out till the victim died in their embrace, too focused on the ecstasy blood gave them. Others, _the hunters of the night_, simply wanted to get rid of those humans who doomed them to the darkness.

It was a foul blood war.

"I don't understand you." Leaned against the door, Mello's eyes burned with indignation. His delicate features, framed by a blond bob, would resemble too pure and angelic for this world if it wasn't for the burnt crossing his face and the layers of black leather enveloping his slim figure. "_Please_, brother."  
His interlocutor sat on the windowsill of the tower in a cradled position, long pale fingers caressing the tip of his bare toes and the gaze lost somewhere in the horizon. He didn't turn at the sound of Mello's plea and he kept cuddling in his long black cloak, his skin looking like papier-mâché under the sunlight and dark eyes weighted with years and infinite knowledge.  
"Lawliet, you're dying!"  
As in an already written script, the black haired vampire finally spoke. "Death doesn't occur just because you don't drink blood, Mihael." Vampires' immortal life wasn't directly connected to their thirst of human blood, thought it was their main source of strength. L Lawliet had stopped drinking blood for centuries and he didn't even remember how the taste was nor he didn't crave for it. His skin had inevitably dried and he looked like the ghost of the most powerful vampire he'd been, but he would never regret the decision.  
"Fuck off, I'm done with you! Just die here already!" With a last growl of frustration, Mello left the room and the echo of his furious steps resonated until L saw his figure soaring through the air with the strength and the beauty of his young age.  
Rage was the only way of communication at Mello's disposal. He was turned into a vampire in his prime, after a life spent in misery and barely aware of the variety of human emotions. When Lawliet took him under his wig, Mello found a new family and even learnt to smile -often inwardly, hid by the angry facade to preserve his pride. So he would express tears with yells and punches because it would have been easier to deal with the news his mentor, the creature he owed his life, gave up on his own.  
_Too pure for a corrupted world_, Lawliet thought absently-mindedly, jumping off the window and gliding light through the sky, the fresh sensation of wind in his hair to clear his mind.  
Avenged the death of Watari, his mentor and creator, and concluded a contract that signed peace between humans and vampires, there was nothing left for the _Prince of Justice_ -a moniker given from those who hated him and hid in the darkness, waiting for the right moment to rise against mankind and their own brothers. A multitude of invincible vampires like Mihael had been prepared for an upcoming war and it was time to appoint a successor.

It was the middle of the night when, landed in the forest, he heard the screams.  
Seven adult voices could be distinguished and they grew of intensity at each step taken. A sudden thud stopped the march and the dim light of lanterns cast spectral shadows all around the area; L observed the scene mingled with the darkness, wondering what those men were doing five miles away the nearest village. Some of them carried spears, but they weren't hunters unless they didn't cared for their dear lives -they just entered the vampire's territory, where only luck would let them leave the tent with their own heads on.  
"Justice will end each one of you." The envelop of clothes fallen on his knees between them had beautiful amber eyes and brown hair. He was probably ten or twelve years old, bruises all over his body and a blood stain drooling along his temples. The man closest to him, a priest judging by the Bible in the hand and the crucifix wrapped around his thin wrinkled neck, spoke above him. "_Silence_! Judgement will speak through God!"  
The other men closed in around the boy and the priest, lanterns held high.  
"_Regna terrae, cantata Deo, psallite Cernunnos. Regna terrae, cantata Dea psallite..._"  
An exorcism. A religious practice of evicting demons or spiritual entities from a person or an area, that are believed to be possessed. An ancient belief brought up by the fear of the unknown, which caused futile deaths like the one of that poor child.  
"_Aradia. caeli Deus, Deus terrae..._"  
Before taking action, L observed carefully the boy. There was fear of death in his eyes but he didn't advert the gaze and stood proud, fists clenched tight, in front of the upcoming holy sentence. Such beautiful strength and will of living pounding through his veins...  
"_Humiliter majestati gloria- AAAH!_" The priest jerked at the sight of the vampire appeared behind the boy. The Bible fell from his grip and the men of the village instinctively pointed their spears at L, knowing they could little in front of the strength of an ancient vampire.  
"Go away." Lawliet's dark eyes glimpsed of a red light, his voice low and steady echoed in the wind. "You will forget about this boy and will return home before dawn."  
The priest an all the men of the village slowly went back to their steps as if under an enchantment; soon, the echo of the march was barely audible and silence reigned back over the woods. The boy, eyes wide open in a mute shock, finally turned to his saviour. "What- How did you do that?!"  
L suddenly awoke from slumber and looked down at the kid, at those eyes full of life and those tiny hands pulling at his cloak with excitement. Almost forgetting he'd been about to die.  
"Telekinesis." The vampire fell on his knees, strength's drained due to his current state of weakness. It would occur him some hours to regain the capability of flying -if an enemy would appear it would be the end of him without a doubt.  
"_Wow._"L had never seen a human watching a vampire like that child did. His eyes, big and innocent, lingered on his pale skin and the heavy bags under his eyes, still clutching at his cloak as if afraid it would be vanished away soon -just like a dream. "Do you feel sick? You can drink my blood as a thank for saving me." Without hesitation he offered his arms covered with bruises, but Lawliet slowly shook his head.  
"I don't drink blood."  
Again those eyes widened in surprise.  
"But vampires drink blood, don't they?!"  
Lawliet sighed, rubbing thoughtfully his tip-toes. "Yes, they do. But I don't." Before the other could express his bewilderment once again, he spoke first. "Why did they want to exorcise you?"  
The grip on L's cloak tightened and the boy bit down his lips before letting out a reply. "I'm cursed. I killed bad people writing their names on a book." There was no hint of regret in his voice despite the light trembling of his shoulders. "A black man with feathers gave me a black note and told me to write down the names of bad people. So I did and it worked."  
Lawliet stared intensely at the boy. A black man with feathers and a cursed book? It only could be...  
"Where's the book now?"  
"The black man took it back when they dragged him in the woods."  
… _Ryuk_.  
The head of the hunters of the night was planning the death of humankind of vampires as well. If a death note existed as the boy said, they were all in danger. It seemed his time hadn't come yet.  
"Light is your name, isn't it?"  
"How-"  
"Don't move."  
Lawliet pulled the boy closer until the scent of blood tickled his nostrils. The ancient need lead the way through his senses, inebriated by the sight of fresh and innocent red liquid. The first lick gave him goosebumps, the ferrous taste filled his mouth as if it was the first time he drank blood; eyes closed shut and pale fingers clutching at Light's shoulders, his tongue wiped off eagerly the blood from the boy's wounds.

_The dim light of a lantern brightened the pages of the book, open on his knees. A black quiver in a tiny hand, trembling with anticipation when the tip soaked with blood and brushed against the paper. A shaky first letter, was he doing the right thing? Did he have really the power to change the world as the black weird man said? Did those man have to die? Regret marked down the second and the third letter, his breath erratic as he shook the head several times. He was right, that men chose him, so he was right, those man were bad and Justice will prove it, write those names, c'mon, don't be a coward! He was Justice now!_

Lawliet pulled back with a shudder, regaining his composure as quickly as possible before his instinct took over.  
"Would you like to tell me your story in a better safe place, Light?" Lawliet stood up and spread his wings, the old flare of justice boiling in his veins. "I promise no one will hurt you."  
Light blinked several times, still shocked and amazed by the change of events. "Alright. I owe you. May I know your name at least?"  
Lawliet pondered the question as he picked the boy up and soared. If Ryuk was really in possess of an item that could kill any creature by knowing their names, it was a risk giving them out so easily.  
"You can call me _Ryuzaki_."

**Nda**

I love fantasy AU's and stories with vampires are my fave fave fave ones. This AU started in my mind as something little, Ryukknowswhy I ended up writing a one-shot -probably my mind is trying to tell me it's tired of studying lol  
I'm sorry for the quick ending but I didn't want to develop it more (maybe I'll do? Who knows), since this is a collections of different AU's. Hope you like it, tell me what you think C:  
Ja ne~!


	3. Crumbles

**III. Crumbles**

_Crumbles_.

Crumbles everywhere. Between washed bedsheets, on the floor, on the kitchen table, in his school bag, even between the plants in the garden.

Light had grown used to the mess of crumbles in each unexpected nook and cranny of the whole apartment along with notes full of graphics and faces, traces of his fiancée's work. Lawliet had in fact several bad habits, like biting his nails and having a messed-up sleeping schedule, but above all his sweet tooth was on the edge to become a dangerous addiction -and it nearly developed into an eating disorder when he and Light first met.

He learnt how to control himself but still the habit of eating sweets non-stop while working on new cases didn't completely leave him. And Light dealt with this along with all the crumbles left around and that he would clean with a resigned huff.

But it was too much to handle it sometimes.

"_L._"

Light's voice was rather frightening sometimes. He never yelled -unless exhausted-, but his voice was as cold as ice and unnaturally calm when something got on his nerves; the detective's well-trained ear could sense danger in that single word spoken, but kept writing the case report with nonchalance.

"Yes, Light-kun?" He asked in his usual colourless tone.

"Come over here."

He was in big troubles judging by the urge in Yagami's voice. He stood up from the couch with a tired sigh and headed towards the kitchen, where an impatient Light waited by the counter, arms crossed and a disgusted grimace crossing his features.

"Look." He said before L could ask what was wrong, nodding at the dirty cup left on the counter. L recognised it as the cup he'd used to drink tea with some chocolate biscuits before Light came back home. It was a rather gracious cup, owl-shaped in cream and mahogany colours.

"I forgot to wash it, I'm sorry." L said immediately as he spotted the crumbles of biscuits stuck to the edge of the cup; quick apologizes appease the very first blast of wrath as he learnt on his skin. Said apologetic words weren't enough to feed Light's anger unfortunately. "Don't use _my_ cup. You have yours." That was the key of the case: the cup was a gift from Sayu, Light's sister, who moved to London with her boyfriend Matsuda. Light wouldn't ever admit it under torture but he treasured each one of the gifts coming from Sayu, even the silliest ones -he did in fact never used that cup because of some sort of embarrassment, but still he didn't allow anyone to touch it.

"I apologize." Lawliet dare come closer, shoulders slightly slouched and hands in the pockets of his over-sized jeans. "I missed Light-kun so I felt like kissing you by using your cup. Though it can't replace the taste of your lips."

Hands falling onto his sides, Light raised a brow and fought between the instinct of laughing and punching his fiancée at the same time. "Your attempt at being schmaltzy is nauseating, L."

"You said you would me to be more romantic, but I suppose my researches had little effects in the end." Despite the sarcasm in L's tone, Light's tension had already gone and he let out a sigh. He knew how it would be living with someone who lacked of good manners and social interaction skills, the same man who put up with his high standard of insatiable hunger of knowledge and never ceased to tickle his cleverness -so bearing with all those crumbles was the least he could do.

"Wash the cup and don't use it again." As the tension loosed up, Light pecked at L's lips before leaving the kitchen. The detective let out a sigh of relief as he proceeded in the task to remove all the crumbles from the cup, considered the case solved and his relationship saved.

But next morning he found out to be wrong: a tag with the word _LIGHT_, written in a neat handwriting, was stuck to the owl-shaped cup.

_A simple heads-up for the future._

**Nda**

Hi there~! Modern!AU in which Light deals with his fiancée's bad habits XD

II'm so sorry if it's too cheesy, I'm sleep deprivated due to exams and I needed to write down something chill~


	4. Drugs

**Nda**

_GhostWhisperer!AU: I had to split the story in two because it was long. Here is it the first part, with a ghost whisperer!Light, Mello who doesn't care about shit and my poor writing skills dealing with drugs abuse. Hint of Mello/Matt and Light/L.___

**IV. Drugs**

Light was sitting in the corner of a large living room, leaning against soft cushions with a pile of untouched books besides him. A man with blond hair and a serious look twisting a baby face made his way through the room, carrying objects that he carefully placed on the blue carpet covering the whole floor. The blond cast a blunt look at Light, at the unhealthy paleness of the skin the younger man covered with an austere composure and long black sleeves, in vain. Mihael has asked for months if it worthed it and has warned about the consequences of those reckless actions, but Light's wall of convictions was unbreakable and was by now the last sparkle of life in his eyes.

"If _he_ knew, he'd be disappointed. Well, who fucking cares." Mihael sat across the floor muttering cusses under his breath and his hands expertedly started to compact the substance together. A hot poker was already heated against the open flame of a gas cooker and Light's gaze lost in the waltzing flames, ignoring the voices whispering at his ears. Earthbound spirits of people who have died sought for his help, prayed for a kind voice to delay significant messages to the living; there were many of them, pushing one another to catch Light's attention, but the man didn't care about their futile needs -who he was looking for wouldn't suit in that annoying cackle.

Meanwhile Mihael pressed the substance into a black button the size of a thumbprint and then he applied the hot poker and the black button smokes softly. An alluring, sweet smell filled the room. Light stretched a hand towards the straw Mihael applied to the pot and slowly brought it to his lips, the expression of a thirsty man lost in the desert. A dull warmth radiated in his chest when he inhaled sharply and the voices instantly shut up altogether; Light's eyes glazed and half closed, bathing in the soothing relief offered by the drug.

Hashish, marijuana, heroin, cocaine... Nothing has had the desired effects. A state of drowsiness alternated with euphoria, his mind spinning like a wheel as the heart rate increased just the moment before panic attacks froze him in place and his sensory perception was so distorted his whole entity was full of voices and colours so brilliant to blind him. No one of those drugs helped Light to ignore the pleas of mercy knocking at the door of his exhaustion, until he asked Mihael to let him try the opium the blond himself smoked from time to time. Witness of Yagami's radical change after L's death, the blond man didn't think trying would destroy further a body on the edge of pollution. He could understand somehow or so he pretended to, playing with the black feathers of the boa around his neck; he's felt the same after Mail's death after all.

He wouldn't expect opium was the key Light was desperately looking for.

The substance helped Light to silence the voices of the deads buzzing around him non-stop, giving him finally the peaceful state he needed to accomplish his task. Laid on the cushions, the boy fell in a dreamy state, feeling his spirit slowly separating from anything mortal.

_It was almost a relief, to feel nothing and connect with the void, capable of filling his own entity in the whole space and being nothing at the same time_. Light's limbs became heavy and relaxed against the cushions as his consciousness wandered in the realm of dreams at the quest of what was lost; what even his ability to talk with the deads was of no help.

Mihael took the straw from Light's grip and rested by the man's side as he always did, wondering when the mortal addiction would make its course. A fake happiness indulged on Light's lips, followed by the soft whispering of a name that felt like a dagger thrown at Mihael.

After his boyfriend Mail, he had lost even the man he trusted the most and who he owed everything. L. The same man Light considered his only and only one half. No question why L's death crashed Yagami's world and purpose in life -why was he gifted to help spirits to pass through the light if he couldn't even speak with the one he loved the most? Why was life so unfair?

"_Maybe it's just not the right timing or he has nothing left to say." Mihael suggested, dealing with a furious Light who kept scratching the crook of his tormented elbow, prey of the adrenaline of the drugs. "Or simply he doesn't want to speak with a junkie."_

"_But Mail came back to talk to you, so L has to talk to me too."_

_Touché. The blond man didn't need to remember the day Light showed up in his workplace, asking questions about the murder of Mail Jeevas and if he has ever believed in the possibility to talk with the deads. The loss stung at the corners of eyes and grit his teeth even after that good-looking boy proved him to know Mail, to hear his voice, to be able to speak through him... And he let him relay Mail's message, his last words for the one he has cared the most, the one he was so strongly connected to such an extend death couldn't tear them apart. But Mail's spirit had to pass through the light and Mihael had to let him go._

_Honestly, Mihael didn't still stand Yagami and there was the unsaid rule between them to not mention Mail, so when Light broke the promise it took him three chocolate bars to prevent him from smashing the man's head against the concrete. He would do it one day anyway, but the result would be a scuffle between lonely men who didn't know what to do with their own lives._

Opium didn't let Light to speak with L's ghost, who was probably watching the world rotting with a lollipop stuck in his mouth and the inevitable impassive look of his. Nonetheless, it let Light remember all the moments they shared together in his drowsy state -the tennis matches, the crumbles of sweet everywhere, the first kiss, the long-hours talks, them stargazing in the hot summer, L burning the oven, the fight for supremacy in bed, when Light spoke about his ability and the sceptic L believed him, when they simply cuddled in bed in one another's arms and Light felt safe enough to not hear a single voice but L's.

Light didn't care if his body would give in or if Mihael would stop helping him out that atrocious self-destruction. He would spoke to L's ghost. At any cost.

"_Tch... Enlighten me, ghost whisperer-san, what the fuck would you talk with his ghost, mh?"_

"_That- That justice doesn't exist. And that I miss him."_


	5. Eyes

**Nda**

_[Modern Setting AU ] [ RemMisa ] [ LightMisa - Onsided] [ Lucifer!Light ]_

_This is my favourite shot, hope you like it 3_

**V. Eyes**

Eyes are the window to the soul.

A sly mind can counterfeit the body language, blend gestures and voice to enhance the power of control, but it often misses the deceitfulness hid in the pupils and it's too late when the opaque veil discloses the truth and your most intimate thoughts. Your smile may sound sincere and shy as your handshake is firm, but as soon as the shady curtains of a fake self-awareness fall over your eyes, the castle of your hopes breaks into pieces and it reveals the fragility kept shut in a corner. These are the looks of people of powers as Rem has witnessed after painting over and over full-sized portraits of politicians. They all look the same, tailored in silky arrogance that cannot deny their desperate need to emerge and guide their own revolution; it's just a matter of time before corruption unwraps their true identity and drags them back to the darkness.

Then there are eyes that are never exposed under the sunlight and Rem truly loves them; the pupils melts within the irises until she softly asks the clients to rise their chin up so that a tender light peeks at them. It takes less than a second before long eyelashes bat the sun away and the rays filter beneath them, shyly as the soul imposes an ethereal look on the eternal canvas.

Some eyes crave for immortality and fiercely demand attention so Rem's strokes have to be harsher on the canvas, more vivid in the violent action to grasp the vitality thundering in the silence of her workspace. She fears these kind of eyes, almost hates them to such an extend the tip of the brush lingers on the canvas for too long and it leaves black holes in the arrogant smiles of certain individuals. She knows well how to fix the damage and cope with the urge of wiping off those demanding irises that are so full of their selves, able to bright of their own lights but forgetting even stars die alone in the empty space.

Sometimes Rem meets eyes she wants to protect at all her cost, eyes she becomes so obsessed with that tears prickle at the corner of her own sharp eye sockets. She has rarely felt this way and for the most of her own life Rem has thought to be so fed up with mankind to be incapable of feeling. She paints out of passion by now, there's no purpose in giving life to all the eyes met until she sees her: Misa Amane, a beauty in her prime with long blond hair framing a porcelain doll skin and rosy lips. She entered in Rem's workplace chatting like they've always known and her smile is delicious as the thrill of her voice echoing in the room -but her eyes, _oh those eyes_, Rem falls for them instantly.

Misa-Misa is what humans find adorably silly. A petite figure able to shine thanks to the charm of her pretty smile, the sweet talks in third person, the way her painted nails softly hug a plush, even the way her big eyes promise you the world just if you treat her nicely. Misa-Misa is infatuated with the concept of love and she would do anything in her power to be loyal and accepted by whom she consecrated her whole heart. Misa-Misa doesn't care if the man she loves is a menace to mankind, if he controls her deeds and keeps telling her what she should or shouldn't do to let them (_him_) conquer the world. Misa-Misa will trust her sentiment and will do anything to make him fall for her just once, to feel his kisses true on her lips, to break the impassive facade of a man whose eyes are red as Hell's flames.

Rem has learnt all of this during the painting sessions with the girl, quietly listening to her talks and peeking shyly at the way her eyes betray the energy of her bright smile. Misa's eyes are of a tender light brown that shades into green when exposed to the light of spring; when her eyes are wide open, her pupils sink in the irises as if discouragement storms out, a sign there's something unheeded in the back of her mind, a voice she doesn't want to hear. It happens a lot when she talks about her wonderful Light, her boyfriend, the man should stand by a girl's side. Intelligent, cunning, handsome, self-confident... She lists over end over his qualities until her voice reaches its highest peaks and suddenly it falls in a soft murmur to herself, the head tipped aside so the long hair brush against her rosy shoulders and she looks like a pure virgin before Rem's bewildered look.

One day the artist dares shut her chatter placing a hand on her cheek. Rem has ever touched one of her clients until that very moment and she's almost moved by the warmth radiating from Misa's skin, the delicacy of her hair against her wrinkled skin and the way her eyelashes bat towards her, indulging in a look that is filled with gratitude.

A giant wave of feelings invests Rem with such a violence to leave her unable to move or speak, fighting the urge to hug that beautiful and kind human being, to whisper words full of love at her ears and kiss those lips with the promise she will ever protect and respect her as she deserves.

"Thanks for always listening to me, Rem." Misa smiles softly and her eyes express for the first time who she truly is: a woman who sold her doll body to a puppeteer, the worst one ever. Since the first time the actress showed up clinging to the arm of this Light Yagami, an uneasy sensation nested in Rem's chest, heavy enough to make her cringe in front of the aura emanating from those amber eyes. The ravenous eyes of a fallen King, whose fingers handled souls as if it was a mere game. As if the whole world belonged to him and bathed in the melody of screams and makeshift justice proclaimed by the snap of the fingers.

"You deserves better than him, Misa."

It's all Rem can say when the inevitable truth comes up to the surface, transparent as fresh water.

The man who veils his reddish irises behind the curtains of amber angelical features, whose name evokes the heights he would never be able to reach again -because his wings are black and rotten and the pollution is the better half of candour-, is _Lucifer_.

Misa doesn't answer immediately, she offers a kind smile and her eyes turns of a bright green. The last sparkle of light before she comes back to be the silly doll in the hands of the devil.

"Love makes you do foolish things."

Then she thanks Rem with a tender kiss on the cheek and it's the last time they speak to each others.

Rem often sees her, stares at her eyes looking for traces of what she has learnt of the virgin protagonist of her most beautiful painting. And she wanders in the oceans of eyes, seeking for a pair whose thirst of justice and chastity may be as strong as the need of destruction ruling in Lucifer's gaze. She hopes to find that light soon, to protect and save her precious Misa before the world turns to dust.


	6. Flower

**Nda**

_Soulmates!AU where a red petal appears on your chest when you meet your soulmate._

_The last verses belong to __So Far Gone____from Thousand Foot Krutch. I was listening to the song in the morning and it gave me inspiration for this shot XD_

_Have a nice week~ Ja ne 3___

**VI. Flower**

Every child came to life with a single petal painted at chest height. A pale pink shade, soft as the lips of a mother brushing against the cheek of her demanding child, a lullaby whispering promises of eternal love, the safe haven during all the phases of life.

When Light was eight a new petal appeared on his chest, tenderly embracing the first one. It was of a darker shade of pink that rather stood out his creamy skin and for a moment his body froze in fear in front of the mirror before his mother came to reassure him. The second petal, she explained rubbing a thumb on Light's tattoo, was the family's symbol; its colour differentiated from the first petal because it was the result of all the shades of their family members, the union between each one of them. It simply meant Light loved his family and his family loved him back.

A glint of curiosity soon replaced the terror in Light's eyes. "Will... other petals appear?"

Still stroking his son's hair lovingly, Sachiko inadvertently brought a hand to her chest. A shy smile blossomed upon her lips while she gave her son a cryptical response Light would understand only few years later. "They will. There's no a precise number, but more will come and you will be the only one able to understand what they mean. Just don't be afraid of them, Light, and let your feelings guide you."

A new petal materialized when Light turned thirteen. It was of a bright pink and as his fingers traced it absently-mindedly, a wind carrying trust and sincerity gently breezed and Light knew Yamamoto was his true best friend.

The birth of the fourth petal was traumatic. At the age of eighteen, Light was a top-ranked student and a good-looking boy whose smile enchanted at first sight; the man each father would wish for his own daughter. He had had some experiences, but none of them lasted enough to let him verify a theory: he suspected a new petal would appear when he would fall in love, but it seemed none of the girls he was in a relationship with observed his rather high expectations. When Kiyomi Takada asked him out and they started dating for few weeks, the pale shadow of a new petal marked Yagami's skin. Takada was an intelligent and graceful young woman, seen as a very prideful person who loved being at the centre of all attention as her reputation of "Miss To-Oh" perfectly remarked. Light might admit to quite enjoy her company even if still being not emotionally involved in the relationship; so it was a mere surprise to find out that tiny petal blossoming on Valentine's Day.

The petal didn't change colour until Misa Amane showed up and claimed to be in love with him. If the awareness someone was stalking you wasn't startling enough, the woman rejected to give in despite Light's politely attempts to refuse her. She even pouted like a child when, pushed beyond the human limits of exasperation, Light threatened to press charges against her if she didn't stop calling him and sending tons of messages every day. Unfortunately the actress was a rather resourceful type and the dust settled only when Light agreed on giving her a chance on three conditions: he wouldn't ever be his boyfriend, he wouldn't love her back and most importantly she wouldn't mess his life with other girls -Misa's protests strengthened the man decision over the last condition.

The day after the deal, Light woke up in pain. He almost skipped a beat when the reflection in the mirror made his fear come true: the petal had turned of a vivid violet shade and there was a flush on his skin where his fingers touched the tattoo. It took a week to be gone, but the petal stayed; frustration and embarrassment convinced Light to never show up his naked chest and he never told anyone about the petal.

Fate seemed to play a trick on him or so he surrendered to the idea when the man named L Lawliet bumped into his way out of the blue. A messy nest of hair who looked like constantly electrified, baggy clothes and dirty sneakers, a sharp tongue despite all the sweets he treated himself with: an uncharacteristic as bizarre look that didn't match a brilliant mind that could compete with Light. They couldn't have been any different as the moon and the sun, as the black and white pieces facing one another from the other side of the chessboard. Always ready for a challenge and prove the rival who was the best between them. Light had never met someone who could keep up with his high standards, someone who appearance asides caught up his interest to such an extent L filled his thoughts days and nights. A torment worse than Misa, a nightmare that hunted him down and clutched at his chest with claws dirty with crumbles and chocolate.

L would _almost_ beat him during the tennis match if Light's last slice serve didn't hit the line. It was a reckless attempt at gaining the match point, only a champion would have the mental alertness to calculate the trajectory even under pressure; his legs and arms were sore and screamed in pain but Light had never felt so alive and _happy_ before L's challenge. Even if the man occupied his mind non-stop and the list of things he disliked about his odd behaviour lengthened each second, minute and hour they shared together, Light didn't wake up a single day aware L would surprise him in some way. Again and again. And he couldn't help but shudder with satisfaction.

Yagami was taking a shower in the empty changing room after the match, when a sudden pain shook him. His whole body froze in daze and he supported himself against the walls, catching his breath with the hope hot water would wash away that awful sensation. He couldn't tell how long it took the pain to lessen to a dull ache, the water was still running when it suddenly stopped and a hand placed on his shoulder.

"Are you okay, Light-kun?"

Still facing the wall and with both hands pressed to his chest to hide the tattoo, Light tried to regain his composure. "Yes, I am. The match really wore me out-"

Amber eyes fell on L's naked abdomen and widened in surprise at the sight of the flower adorning his chest. Four jagged-edged petals of different shades of grey and a single red one closing the cycle. Light had never seen someone's else flowers tattoo and would never image they could be of different colours.

"I guessed you had one as well..."

Uncaring of the slightest sense of decency, L gently took Light's hand off his chest and almost smiled, pointing at the source of pain still radiating where his heart pounded at a high speed.

"L, what...?" Undressed of his own privacy and flushed with embarrassment, Light marched towards the mirror to see what have caught L's attention. His jaw almost dropped for the second time at the sight of the same red petal connecting all the others in a perfect cycle.

_Just don't be afraid of them, Light, and let your feelings guide you._

The first petal was the love of his mother giving him birth, the second one enclosed the love for his family, the third one was in the meaning of true friendship, the fourth one certainly indicated an unrequited love, so the fifth one... L's charcoal eyes spoke the truth for him at the back of his reflection. "It appeared the day we met at the entrance ceremony."

As his fingertips brushed along the reddish edge of the petal, Light inwardly laughed. Fate was tremendously cruel sometimes, but sure he would have fun with L.

"You said you wanted to try that new café by the train station yesterday, didn't you?"

"You remember correctly."

Giving back to the mirror, Light cast a meaningful look at L's frog-like smile as he walked past over him. "Let's meet there after lessons. _We have a lot to discuss_."

_Sometimes I wonder why you even care__  
__Cause even when I leave you're always there with me__  
__And like a candle makes a brighter place__  
__This mark you've made on me can't be erased_


	7. Ghost

**Nda**

_[ GhostWhisper!AU ] [ Hint of Mello/Matt ]_

_It's a sort of prequel of Drugs, where Light is a ghost whisperer.___

_To be honest I'm not quite satisfied with this shot, but it's a sort of gift for a friend who loves Mello/Matt 3_

_Ja ne!___

**VII. Ghost**

Light's ability to communicate with ghosts showed up when he was seventeen years old.

He'd always heard whispers in the dark of the night or felt a stranger's hand tapping on his shoulders, but no one could be seen around as he turned with a bewildered look. He'd tried to speak about it with his mother, but she shrugged it off with a gentle caress and a cup of tea along with the suggestion to rest well and don't stress over the exams -_that his parents would be always proud of him_. So Light learnt to ignore those voices until he saw the first ghost: a male on his early twenties, a pair of googles covering his eyes and a lit cigarette between his lips, asking if he could borrow Light's Nintendo DS because he missed gaming.

After futile attempts at ignoring the ghost and trying to convince himself the sleep deprivation induced hallucinations, Light couldn't bear with it anymore and decided to face the ghost. Mail Jeevas, the ghost's name, had little memories of his past life and barely remembered his death -an atrocious one as Light discovered looking through the police files of his father. Matt had died in a mafia gunfight, his corpse swamped in a pool of blood and seven holes in his abdomen. The murderers were arrested and the case was closed, marking Mail as an innocent victim mistaken for someone else.

"So why are you still stuck here? Those who killed you have been thrown in jail months ago."

Light had never truly believed in the Afterlife, but he had found proof of Mail's existence so there was a proper reason his ghost decided to show up all of a sudden.

"I need to relay a message to someone who was important to me. Guess you're the only one who can help, _ghost whisperer_."

The moniker ungratefully described Light's apparent ability, an absurdity to which even a rational mind had to surrender unless proven craziness. However surreal that experience was and still feeling like being stuck in a dream, Light confessed to be freed from the obnoxious boredom steering him towards the perfect image of a young promising adult with a career in police as his father. Shivers ran through his fingers as they tapped away along the keyboard at the quest of all the little details Light needed to solve the case; an _enticing_ prospect to prove himself he was more than the mask of perfection he showed off the world, that _something_ laid unheeded on the edge between believes and truth. Mail's ghost wasn't just a mere hallucination.

A week of researches occurred before the name Mail gave him, _Mihael Keehl_, was correctly located. The recipient of Mail's message ran a gothic style clothing store which was surprisingly close to Light's university; just a few blocks away, in a fancy quarter of small boutiques and vintage stores that build its fortune thanks to teenagers around the age of his sister. Sayu knew absolutely well the store Light was looking for and the description she provided of the commercial manager matched Mail's -a man with chin-length golden-blond hair and deep blue eyes, average height and often dressed in dark tight leather clothes. "Oh and I think he has an obsession for chocolate bars, I've never seen him without one at hand!" Sayu giggled as she described the man and even without glancing at Mail, Light knew they found their target.

What his sister and Mail didn't mention was how deeply cynical and short-tempered Mihael was, the angelic face always twisted in anger and frustration he vented out crunching loudly on his chocolate bars. Light wondered how he could be still so thin eating sweets non-stop, but this was the last one of his problems. He started to show up from time to time at the shop, feigning to look for a gift for an imaginary girlfriend and careful to not turn up his nose at the sight of a clothing style that didn't meet his good-looking taste -detail the blond man noticed since Light landed in his territory and didn't wait to point out with his sharp-tongue. "How about a change of style? Khaki pants and solid coloured shirts are out, dear boy. '90s ended a decade ago, you know."

The third time it was quite obvious Light wasn't looking for a gift and still the teen hadn't found the right way to approach Mihael. Mail suggested to go straight to the point, but whoever would laugh at him or find him crazy if he ever proclaimed to see ghosts and talk with the deads. Light needed a plan and as he stepped in the store for the fourth time he was seriously motivated to breach Mihael's walls.

As the doorbell rang announcing his entrance, Mihael welcomed Light with a sarcastic sneer. "Still looking for something fancy for your girl, dear boy?"

"_He still has it._"

Light held his breath as his fingers inadvertently followed Mail's in the clumsy attempt at touching the ring dangling down Mihael's neck. The ghost's hand lingered on the cool surface of the metal while the blond slapped away Light's fingers, anger burning in his eyes. "Don't touch." He almost hissed through grit teeth, unaware of Mail's presence at his side as he'd always been when alive and where he would have stood if the cruel fate would let him be.

"_It's our engagement ring._"

Mail's soft whisper invested Light was a giant wave of emotions which sadness prevailed. Voices of men resonated in the milky limbo of his confused mind and as his eyes narrowed, Light saw Mihael and Mail cuddling on the coach of their apartment, kissing tenderly and fingers interlacing as they drowned in one another's gazes like there was anything more beautiful that of a bubble of pure bliss. Mihael's eyes softened as he leaned for another kiss, nibbling at Mail's bottom lip before sinking his head in the crook of his boyfriend's neck and falling asleep at the feathery touch of hands running through his hair. The image faded in one soaked with blood and now dreadful screams echoed all around him along with the siren of the ambulance, but it was too late, there was anything they could do, that poor man died with the engagement ring for his lover in his clenched fist, treasuring and protecting it until his last breath, unable to fulfil the wish for a happy life with the man who was shaking and crying out loud his name in the dead of the night...!

Light's legs trembled and his fingers laced around Mihael's hand, strengthening the grip when the blond's rage bubbled up again. His vision blurred as Mail's fingers flashed out in the connection of Light's and Mihael's hands and just for a single moment they felt real and warm as if still alive; an hallucination maybe, but still powerful enough to silence the yells and when Light opened his eyes again, a single tear stroke down Mihael's cheek.

"He's... here?"

Throat suddenly dry and unable to understand what exactly had happened, Light slightly nod.

"He wants to talk to you. If you feel it."

Now Mihael was holding tight Light's hand with such a shaking strength the teen almost feared it broke his bones. The man's blue eyes scanned the surroundings, eager to see Mail's ghost again, eager to know if he'd been dreaming a moment ago when he had felt Mail's fingers touching him and his presence reassuring him. Telling him it was all okay, that he would always stand by his side no matter the cost, _yeah_, no matter the fact he was now dead and had left alone the only person in the whole world who didn't deserve even this, when their life was one step closer to end in the most affect way possible, _happily ever after_.

So he simply nodded and fuck everything, fuck his life and the whole nothingness belief, if there was still a chance for a broken heart to embrace the feeling tormenting his nights and crush it beneath the reassurance Mail wouldn't completely washed away, that even if simply as a ghost he was still around and look after him and that weird good-looking guy could prove it, Mihael would believe it and cling onto that hope.

_The ghosts of the past never leave us._


End file.
